The large manilla envelope addressed to Sasha Moreau is brought by a well dressed messenger to the Venture Estates.  After the envelope is put through the appropriate security screenings it is delivered to her desk.

Within is another smaller envelope made of a cotton and silk blend paper with a slight tinge of robin-egg-blue, its size and design suggest it was custom folded by a skilled origami artist.  A large blob of red sealing wax holds the envelope closed, embossed with a scepter being held by an eagle and the latin phrase 'A • Posse • Ad • Esse' (the sign and motto used by the Ventrue Gerousia of Chicago).

Upon opening the envelope a stunningly white sheet of fine parchment is revealed, adorned with a letter calligraphed in deep maroon ink using a classic Schwabacher scrïpt.

---

Praetor Moreau,
Stragetgoi and Primogen of Sanfield.

This letter is to inform you that in light of the recent anomaly taking place in the city of Atlanta, and as a sign of good will and support (Absit invidia) I am sending you a loyal member of clan Ventrue.

Andrew Dominic is an Ancillae and was invited into clan Ventrue in the year 1925 because of his virtues as a mortal, that he was also the eldest son of the well bred and wealthy Tresca family of Boston Society was a bonus.

He is often seen favoring the streets and getting well connected with the cattle in town. Usually setting up scholarships, getting involved with politics, and even sponsoring scouting events.  We are certain you will enjoy his endless ideas at improving stability between the clans, thereby "strengthening the great order that the Camarilla promises to the world."

He is known for being a strident loyalist and upholder of our fine Traditions, the one who brought Lerato the foul murderer to justice in Chicago, and for his tendency to attempt to meet everyone (Ad captandum vulgus).

We are certain he will serve you and the interests well.

In Dignitas,
Praetor Huntington
Stragetgoi and member in good standing of the Chicago Gerousia.  

--Last edited by Andrew Dominic on 2009-02-15 15:42:07 --

Sasha regards the letter for many minutes, reading it over several times. As with all Ventrue business, it is riddled with hidden meanings and messages which one must look very deep between the lines to perceive.

Huntington. She remembers meeting him a few times when she was much younger. He was a pompous prick. Apparently still is. Did she come off as being that magniloquent? Surely not.

At any rate, he is hiding something. This city has quickly built a reputation as the place to send Ventrue one wishes to dispose of, yet he wishes me to believe he is sending me one of his best without my request. He makes it seem as though he is doing me a favor when in truth it is the other way around. He knows this as well as I do, Atlanta is all but fallen to the Sabbat, why would you send any soldier away, much less one of your best.

This will only go one of two ways; either this Mister Dominic is yet another hapless soon-to-be-victim who will doubtless disappear as have so many others, or he will be a bright young star who proved to be more capable than his sire and thus an embarrassment as was the case with my dear Valentine.

Truthfully I cannot complain about either outcome, I lose nothing but stand to gain an investment that one of my peers could not handle. Either way I win, but I shall reserve my judgment of Mister Dominic until I have met him myself.

A call is made the following evening requesting an appointment for Andrew Dominic with Ms. Moreau, "at her earliest convenience."

On the appointed night, fifteen minutes before the appointed time an attractive man of Italian descent in his mid to late thirties, and dressed in a dark grey suit (that the careful eye can see is tailor made of an Italian cashmere and wool blend.) gets out of the reddish-brown limousine that picked him up from the airport.  After telling the driver he would return, he walks to the well lit glass entrance.

The smell of plastic, new carpet, and cleaning products all dance around a pleasant but subtle scent that the word 'cafeteria' can only describe as the man enters the impressive building and the automated doors slide closed behind him.
The memory of meal time rituals enters his mind, and he recalls how much he misses food despite the distraction it ultimately entailed.  So much time and effort is dedicated to what is, in essence, fuel.  This logic shunts his nostalgia of old repasts aside as he considers how things are now so much more efficient.

He moves toward the security desk and his gaze is drawn to the delightful water fountain that is housed in this church of industry, evoking a pleasant smile on his face.  Nothing like a bit of nature harnessed to set the tone.

After checking in with security he rides the elevator up to the penthouse office as directed.  He is certain that the clan is testing him by sending him to Sanfield.  He has been very successful with improving clan relations and Camarilla support in Chicago, so it would seem they intend him to perform similar duties here.  His research screamed that this town is in need of Ventrue, but he couldn't glean why eager members of The Peerage haven't been flocking here in scores.

It is a huge city, with many different industries, and a thriving political scene.  The math just doesn't seem to add up.  He was told that he was being sent as support in the event the Atlanta anomaly spreads northward.  It is always possible that he is a part of the first wing of new imports from other offices, he muses, but tosses aside these mental meanderings as surely the Elder will shed more light on the situation, if necessary.

His thoughts flick to his herd and whether they have things in motion yet, but this cerebration quickly retires as the elevator emits a stylish sound notifying him he has reached his destination.  

--Last edited by Andrew Dominic on 2009-02-15 14:43:56 --

Sasha stands waiting to receive her guest some ten feet outside of the elevator door, smoking a perfumed cigarette. One cannot help but notice when seeing her for the first time, especially one of the blood who has heard anything of her accomplishments, how remarkably small she is. In stature, she appears much like a pre-teen girl, standing perhaps five foot two with a very petite frame. Though there is nothing in her face to suggest she is any younger than her late twenties, and her eyes... her eyes betray an age and world-weariness at least five times that. Eyes that could nearly freeze a man solid.

She is dressed to the hilt in obviously custom-tailored clothes, a black silk suit with very thin crimson pinstripes, and a matching fedora. Despite her ice-queen reputation, she can be quite charming when she wants to be, and luckily for Mister Dominic it would seem that tonight, she wants to be. She walks toward the newly arrived Blue Blood as soon as he steps out of the elevator, if plutonium could radiate congeniality and grace instead of life threatening gamma rays, it would pale in magnitude to the charm of her smile.

"Welcome Mister Dominic, I trust your journey went smoothly."

Gesturing to a much younger looking man off to her right, she adds,

"This is Valentine Mazzini the Second, my most trusted liaison, and a man of many talents. When our business is concluded, he will personally escort you for your introduction to our Prince, and should you so desire, give you a tour of our city. Please, step into my office."

The elevator doors slide open and Andrew is immediately impressed with this Elders presence, despite her small size he could swear she is much taller than his six feet and two inches.    

"Stragetgoi Moreau, it is a pleasure to be greeted by you."

He says as he smiles pleasantly and reaches out his hand to receive hers in order to kiss it in accordance with the laws of decorum (but will follow her lead should she choose to shake, not all branches are the same.).  

"My travel was smooth as silk, thank you."

He says with a smile, not mentioning that he was given two days notice to liquidate the majority of his assets and move to Sanfield, it is his pleasure to serve the Interests, after all.

Turning to Valentine as he is introduced,

"Lictor? (He lightly asks) Mazzini, it is a pleasure Sir."

He shakes Valentines hand with a firm and friendly grip.

Entering the office as directed, he waits until his Elders are seated before taking one himself.

"Thank you for the gracious welcome."  

--Last edited by Andrew Dominic on 2009-02-18 02:33:35 --

 I'm dressed to the nines, my Prada outfit recently shipped from Milan. With everything the others have done thus far I have dim hopes he will do here, but we can only hope really. I have heard quite some things about this man. Now we shall see if his reputation is all talk indeed.

I take the man's hand with a wry smirk on my face,"Its truly a pleasure, I've heard many things. Welcome to Sanfield Rock," as I follow Sascha'a lead. This is her part of the shpille, mine comes later. Sascha is the real brains behind our clan here, I'm just the face everyone trusts.

We shall certainly see what Mr. Dominic brings to the table. It seems Sascha always gets the shit end of the stick, hopefully times are changing...

Sasha, as Andrew will quickly learn, is not one to be treated like a lady. She does not allow for her hand to be kissed, but instead offers a solid handshake; her petite hand as smooth, cold, and hard as the fine marble that lines the floors.

"You are most welcome Mister Dominic."

She waits as introductions are made with Valentine, the corners of her mouth tugging downward in consideration when Andrew asks of Valentine's position, as though she had never considered it. In truth, in all of her time in Sanfield, there had never been enough Ventrue here at the same time long enough to consider such a thing; essentially, they all had to do what needed to be done when it needed to be done.

As they file into the grand office, Sasha shakes her head almost imperceptibly, and smiles toward Valentine.

"No, if I had to pin Valentine down to any one thing, I would say that he is more of an Aedile."

To many Ventrue, this might be taken as an insult, but Valentine has always taken pride in his strengths. And after all, why should he not, he is exceedingly good at what he does, it is to the detriment of those who would ignore the usefulness of such talents. As he might say: 'if the shoe fits...'

"Lictor, Mister Dominic, is a position that has not been filled for some time in this city."